


moon in her hand

by Dadeedoo



Series: they move in power but not so much grace [1]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: F/F, Sad gays, all female squad, female!gokudera, female!yamamoto, happy gays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-23 22:18:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16627463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dadeedoo/pseuds/Dadeedoo
Summary: It’s after a study-session-turned-cram-session that’s run late into the night, thanks to Yamamoto and Tsuna both not understanding anything about electromagnetism, or the properties of currents, orelectrons, that Gokudera finally feels she has found her place.





	moon in her hand

It’s after a study-session-turned-cram-session that’s run late into the night, thanks to Yamamoto and Tsuna both not understanding anything about electromagnetism, or the properties of currents, or _electrons_ , that Gokudera finally feels she has found her place. Yamamoto, the idiot jock, is conked out, halfway underneath the kotatsu, notes spread around her like a snowdrift. Gokudera’s pillowed her head on her arms, but awakens when she hears someone turn off the light. She watches through sleep-tightened eyes as Tenth gently lifts Yamamoto’s head and places a pillow under it. It makes sense for her to care for Yamamoto’s body - she’s invaluable as a hitwoman, and her body is worth more than her brain, anyway. Gokudera closes her eyes again, ignoring the rock in her chest, a crestfallen, useless feeling.

Then she feels a soft weight settle around her shoulders, and a pillow nudged underneath her head. Gokudera’s heart seizes, then flops, and she opens one eye to watch Tsuna tiptoe to her bed. Tsuna turns to Yamamoto and Gokudera, then crawls onto her (cover-less, pillow-less) bed.

In the morning, Gokudera will yell her apology for putting the Tenth through an uncomfortable night, and Yamamoto will just rub the back of her head and laugh like the idiot she is. The Tenth will wave her hands and try to calm them down, and Lambo will launch into the room with her latest hare-brained scheme to off Reborn, and Reborn will shoot the Tenth in the head and she'll stop Lambo with her dying will, scaring her half to death in the process, so in the end it's the Tenth sitting in her underwear, while Lambo wails, clutching the wreckage of her newest weapon, Yamamoto trying to console her, Reborn scolding the Tenth for letting an enemy get so near ("But it's seven, how am I supposed to be awake?!" "A boss always sleeps with one eye open." "THAT'S JUST AN EXPRESSION!") and Gokudera sits back for once, and just watches, and feels like this chaotic mess of the only woman to give a damn about her is the home she's been looking for.

It’s only after one particular breakfast, when the cow nearly blows up the wall in her latest attempt on Reborn’s life and Gokudera defuses the situation by literally punting the grenade over the fence, that Tsuna gives a heart-felt, sleepy smile and her heart seizes, and flops. No-one has smiled at her like that.

————

She used to buzz her hair tight to the skin. It brushes her shoulders nowadays, and she uses an odd collection of barrettes to keep her face clear when immersed in a difficult problem. It wasn’t so long ago, however, that seeing herself in the mirror at the wrong angle, with shadows suggesting a lengthened cut, would drive her to find the nearest toilet.

————

Bianchi and Gokudera take after their father. One daughter he could deal with, provided he could get a son - turns out that regardless of how successful you may be as a top dog in the underworld, the womb still doesn't bow to your directions. Gokudera is pummeled and flexed until she can cast the long shadow her father wanted of a son. It's brutal training, but when she's a foot in the grave and facing down six mafiosi in a smoky room fit to blow, in between her rapid curses and projection calculations, she's a little grateful for it.

————

She smokes a pack a day. Some things stay the same.

————

In another world, the Tenth dies and everything goes to hell. Gokudera doesn’t have time for anything that isn’t a plan, a new weapon, a way to fill the impossibly vast shoes that Tsuna (Tsuna) leaves behind. The only person she still allows to rile her into one-on-one training these days is Yamamoto — her and her mother’s sword, her icy, focused gaze, her lips and the way they haven’t quirked up in years.

They’re practicing one day, when Gokudera’s fatigue finally catches up to her and she miscalculates a step. Yamamoto’s sword is already striking down lightning-fast, but she pulls back as much as she can - in any case, it still slices through Gokudera’s suit and carves her arm open from elbow to wrist. Gokudera hisses, drops to her knees and grips her arm. The wound is shallow, but it stings of pain and shame.

Her hair in her face, she sees Yamamoto’s shoes stop in front of her, and feels her rough hands on her shoulders. “What do you want now, you sword-swinging idiot,” she grinds out, but Yamamoto’s already lifted her up, up, up, and Gokudera’s head is spinning and she’s about to pass the fuck out like some middle-school wimp dissecting her first fetal pig.

Yamamoto slings an arm under Gokudera’s knees to lift her bridal-style, and Gokudera decides she’s had enough. She thinks hazily that she’s done with this silent, stolid Yamamoto, that she wants her Family back, her friends, her Tenth, and her idiotic, smiling, beatific Yamamoto back, so she kicks her legs out, knocks Yamamoto down with Gokudera on top, a leg between Yamamoto’s thighs, and lets go of her arm to grab Yamamoto’s jaw and kisses her.

Yamamoto freezes underneath her. Gokudera smoothes her hair behind her ear, kisses the corner of her mouth, and Yamamoto opens her mouth and licks a swipe along Gokudera’s lips and unsuredly, then carefully, and finally in a grip of iron clutches at her like a lifeline in this shitstorm they’ve landed in. Gokudera gasps when Yamamoto’s hands find her breasts, and Yamamoto sucks on her bottom lip, flips Gokudera over, and grinds a knee into her so she gasps again and goes light-headed, tilts her head back so Yamamoto’s mouth can find her neck.

When Yamamoto suggests somewhere more comfortable than the sweat-stained mats of the training room, Gokudera can only nod.

Somewhere outside the base, the world is ending, Byakuran continues his relentless march against the Vongola and whoever else still dares stand against him, and the Tenth is dead. But here, right now, Gokudera has found Yamamoto, and maybe they can still snatch a single moment for themselves out of this last eternity.

————

But that’s another world, desperate and lonely, and this is a world in which apocalypse isn’t necessary for two girls to realize that maybe they like each other.

————

Yamamoto and Gokudera walk back from the Tenth’s house, sniping at each other (well, Gokudera’s sniping - the baseball idiot is lost in thought, responding with a laugh and a non sequitur every so often, which is honestly more annoying than just straight insults) in the dusk of summer, illuminated in red and gold.

Yamamoto’s the one who opens the question, after a particularly brutal take-down questioning which marsupial she stole her brains from. Yamamoto, as per usual, is as subtle as a truck barreling down an interstate.

“Gokudera,” she says. She looks her straight in the eye.

“What,” Gokudera says.

“I like you,” Yamamoto says.

“…huh?”

“I like you, and I want to go on a date with you.”

“…WHAT?”

“is tomorrow okay?”

Gokudera just stares, slack-jawed, in response.

“Maybe about four o’clock? I’ve got practice ’till then, we’ve started summer conditioning - but there’s a new movie out about robots and aliens I thought you might like so I can go ahead and book us tickets. Uh, if you want.”

This is the most nervous she’s ever seen Yamamoto. Gokudera would gleefully tear into this with abandon if she could feel anything right now other than gobsmacked.

“Or, if you don’t want to - don’t feel pressured to! I just thought maybe - uh, anyway, whatever, it’s stupid. Sorry to bring it up,” Yamamoto says. She turns and rubs her neck. A blush flames up her chest, to the very tip of her crown.

Gokudera mutely nods. They split at the junction of the path. Yamamoto all but runs back to the sushihouse, and Gokudera slowly trudges back to her empty apartment.

She stands in the middle on the bare, wooden floor, and notices no reminders of her past life, and nothing really to indicate her presence beside a bed, some pots and plates, and a laptop. Maybe before, she would've thought there was no time to entertain silly dalliances, or baseball idiots who want a little of her time. But now, as selfish as it might be of her not to keep her time completely open for the Tenth, her throat tightens up at the thought of another evening shut-up in her empty apartment.

So the next day, when she turns up at the baseball diamond at four o’clock with a pair of printed e-tickets for the newest Alien vs. Robot, she finds Yamamoto beaming at her like she's holding the moon in her hand.

**Author's Note:**

> A while ago I wrote a couple one-shots set in a world where all the guardians and Tsuna were women. I'm uploading them from my notes as I come across them. Hope you enjoy!


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